9:44 p.m.

"Too Bad" - Nickleback

September 15, 2002      9:44 p.m.

Well, it's been a long time since I've kept a journal.  What will I do with this journal?  Write down my deepest, darkest secrets?  Hell no!  I've seen what happens when someone does that!  Write down all my dreams and thoughts?  Fuck that, someone will come in and read them and then they can use them against me.  Or just make fun of me for them.  So why the hell am I starting another journal?  Probably because there are times that a girl just needs to get all her thoughts out and write them down.  She needs to write down her doubts, her fears, the things that pissed her off in the day and the things that made her laugh.  Megan has been keeping a journal rather faithfully for the past few years, at least since she's 16 or 17, which is impressive.  Usually I'll have one that goes for about a month and then I'm done.  Why?  Probably because of my inability to commit.  At least that's what all the ex-es I've broken up with before might say.  Well, maybe they were all right and I'm wrong. And maybe they can all just fuck themselves.

Can you tell that there is just a little bit of a bad mood in me?  Yeah.  It comes from a lot of things, but the most that I just want to hear from one person, and so of course I won't.  Why do I do this to myself every single time?  Why do I allow myself to fall head over heels and let it occlude everything else in my life?  Why is it that if I'm going to fall in love with someone, I allow myself to open up completely so that it'll hurt me incredibly?  Why does everyone around me seem to find that one true person they can share everything with and live happily ever after?

I don't believe in that bullshit.

There is no "happily ever after".  It's a fairy tale that we tell our daughters so that they'll marry and be happy with the first gent they meet up with a proposes to her.  It's told to us so that we'll work at it as hard as we can and then watch as they slowly die day by day.

Why do I allow myself this?  What makes me think that I can be so bloody happy?  I don't get happiness.  I was, two months ago, perfectly happy with the idea of growing old all by myself, living in a house that would scare the kids away just by its inherent spookiness, and have about five or six cats that all run around meowing and causing a ruckus in the neighborhood, adding to my mystery and scariness.  I was perfectly happy believing that I could grow old and die without marrying again and that when I finally did die, know I'd lived a good life.  What's changed?  I fell in love and it's not enough any longer.  I fell so completely in love with someone who treats me well and tells me things that make me laugh and smile.  He tells me he loves my laugh and it makes me smile.  And suddenly I want it all.  I want that fucking fairy tale that we're given as children.  I want the happily ever after.  I want to wake up next to him every day and go to sleep next to him every night.  Fuck...right now all I want is a phone call.  I just want to hear his voice.

But he lives 8 hours away from me and so we're trying to make this work.  Will it?  I want it to so desperately and I'm trying to find that balance between being loving and affectionate without being that creepy clingy.  He tells me it would break his heart to lose me, but...will it?  I don't know.  I heard that before and it took me a long time to recover.  It took so long for me to recover that, almost 15 years later, I'm taking that chance again and I'm terrified.  But why?

My thoughts are so jumbled.  I'm so upset right now and I don't have any sort of concrete reason except that I want him to call and he hasn't yet.  Why hasn't he?  I hate this!!  I hate this!!!  You see, with the joy of love comes the depression of doubt.  Because if the person doesn't call, you begin to wonder things like, "Have I done something wrong?"  or "Is he feeling less about me now?"  or even the best, "He doesn't want to be with me anymore."  Those are the worst, and no matter what, time after time, women constantly think these things.  And yet we still wait by the phone, checking it on occasion to make sure that it's not accidentally off the hook.  And I sit here, the same way, and I'm wondering why it's suddenly at 10 and he hasn't called me yet.  It's been all day since I've talked to him, and I wonder.  We're 8 hours away, what stops him from taking some other woman out, one who is closer, younger, prettier, one that will be there for him when he needs it.  That doesn't take up all his time on his phone and he doesn't need to cater to when I come up on weekends.  

Fuck...I love him, and this kills me.

Which is it?  I want to be the romantic.  I'm tired of being mistrusting and cynical.  I want to have that fairy tale and ride off into the sunset with Prince Charming.  I love him and I'm going to see him in just a few days.  For all his concerns, he can't bring himself to tell me not to come.  For all his worries, he still wants to curl up next to me on the couch where I'll be crashing on Friday night.  For all my cynicism, I am going to fall asleep in his arms and there will be a smile on my face because that's right where I want to be.

So, for now, this is me, signing off, and going to sleep so that I can go through another day.